


Stress Test

by DuskyMafiosa



Series: The Mighty Nein's Finest Gays Only Events [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Beau Loves Compliments, Bondage, Bottom Beau, F/F, Yasha Loves Being Trusted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 04:53:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17155676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuskyMafiosa/pseuds/DuskyMafiosa
Summary: “What, do you want to activate the windlass again?”A wry chuckle fell from Beau's mouth. “I don't think you can blame me.”“No blame, just an observation.” The barbarian shrugged. Her mass of hair tumbled over one shoulder as she tilted her head to fully look at Beau. “Just want you to know the feeling is mutual.”





	Stress Test

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Critmas! This story isn't particularly holiday-themed, but Beau does get wrapped up like a present.

Heavy winds swirled around Yasha as she climbed up to release the Squall-Eater’s sails. The barbarian already kept a sure grip on the ropes but braced for resistance anyway. She did welcome the coolness it brought since there wasn’t much cover from the direct heat on board the ship.

The saltiness of the air was so off from that of Xhorhassian marshes. The humidity weighed on her differently, didn't fill her chest quite as deeply. She supposed it was yet another adjustment she'd have to make.

Yasha slid two fingers between the end of the rope and the pole, pulling until there was enough give to loosen it. Any time it got stuck, she reached down to deftly untangle the kink. Fjord had only explained it to her once before she worked out a system that meshed best with her prior knowledge of the material.

Yasha took to her role as deckhand with a quiet pride — as much pride as she could muster under the threat of death. Looking down, she noticed that Beau also took her job as cooper seriously. So seriously that the monk had taken a break from the barrel she'd been working on to watch Yasha work.

Amusement spiraled up through Yasha's chest to bring a smile to her mouth. It had been like this since they'd first met, and the barbarian was content to see how long it would take for something to become of it.

She coiled the rope's end to keep it from tangling up the rigging, tossed it down where she'd been standing, then made her descent. When she got closer to the deck, she leapt the remaining feet to save time.

The barbarian squared her feet and dragged the rope hand over hand. This part of the job typically required a team, but she liked to do it herself. It strained her muscles and gave a satisfying burn. Nearby, she heard Beau shape a barrel with an adze. The slow scrape of the tool was just long enough that Yasha could set her pace to its rhythm.

She huffed with exertion. Her back and arms flexed fully with each pull. The mast creaked and rope stopped, signaling the end. Yasha cast a look up at the unfurled sail. The flag waved above the main mast, and Yasha squinted at it. Even a representation of the Cloven Crystal unsettled something within her, but she stared at it until she could stand it no more.

Almost distantly, the barbarian realized Beau's barrel shaping had stopped as well. With the rope still pulled taut, Yasha caught the monk's eye from the corner of hers.

“What, do you want to _activate_ the windlass again?”

A wry chuckle fell from Beau's mouth. “I don't think you can blame me.”

“No blame, just an observation.” The barbarian shrugged. Her mass of hair tumbled over one shoulder as she tilted her head to fully look at Beau. “Just want you to know the feeling is mutual.”

Beau’s eyes went wide as her mouth parted in surprise. Yasha watched as Beau's hands clenched for a second before dropping her adze. The tool clattered around the barrel's base, snapping the monk out of her glazed-over expression. Yasha could see the warmth spread across Beau’s face and neck. So Beau ducked her head into the barrel to hide it.

 

“Uhh. Busy! I'm busy. Don't look at me!”

“Beau.” Yasha called, a laugh catching at the end.

The monk kept rummaging around the darkness even though she'd already found her adze.

“Beau, look at me.” The barbarian infused her voice with a commanding tone.

Quickly, as if someone lit a fire under her, Beau lifted herself out of the barrel. Her brown face showed a rare eagerness.

Yasha quirked a brow. “Something you'd like to say?” A knowing smile gave the words a flirty curve.

“Nah, not really.” Going by the journey Beau's facial expression took, many thoughts must have pushed their way around her mind. Her admiring gaze swept up from Yasha's arms to her mismatched eyes. “Just that I wouldn't mind if you, y'know, showed me some more of your rope techniques.”

“Is that so?”

“Hey, that's always useful knowledge for pirates.”

Yasha tipped her head up in thought. “That is true.”

 

The barbarian kept a steady hand on the rope as she fastened it to the ship. “If you ever want a lesson, I'm sure you know where I'm staying.”

 

That flash of eagerness made another appearance in Beau's posture — in the way she rested her arms over the barrel's opening to lean forward, her eyebrows raised. Yasha appreciated that Beau made no attempt to tamp it down this time.

Before Yasha left, Jester waved an arm and caught Yasha's eye. Jester wiggled her eyebrows while a cheerful smirk played at her lips. A loud giggle chased Yasha below deck. Yasha saw nothing to do but laugh quietly to herself about it too.

When Beau and Jester weren't making faces at each other throughout dinner, the monk would sneak glances at Yasha. Yasha only met about half of the looks during her conversation with Nott.

Once she excused herself, she could feel the monk's lingering stare and the heat behind it.

Even the rooms in The Bloated Cup were styled after a ship's quarters, cramped and smelling vaguely of saltwater. It wasn't Yasha's favorite place to be, but if she unfocused her eyes for a bit, the color scheme allowed her to pretend she was somewhere more familiar.

If pressed, Yasha could make an educated guess how long she'd be in her room before Beau went after her. She wouldn't have guessed six seconds.

Three quick raps at the wooden door pulled her out of her thoughts.

 

“ _Hey, Yasha._ I'm ready for my lesson.” Beau called, a smile in her voice, and the barbarian gathered herself.

 

As soon as Yasha opened the door, Beau was all over her — almost as though she couldn't decide where to start. They pulled each other in, the kiss initially a mismatched intensity. Beau went for a rougher approach, not a hint of grace in the way she slung her arms over Yasha's shoulders and raised up onto the balls of her feet to claim her mouth. Yasha typically preferred a slower start but found herself caught up in the monk's mood, tilting her head to bring their faces even closer.

Without looking behind her, the monk kicked the door closed. But before she could bring her leg back, Yasha caught the back of her knee and wrapped it around her hip. She smiled against the barbarian's mouth.

Yasha ran another large hand down Beau's side, keeping the trail steady despite her racing heart. She lifted Beau's other leg to bring the monk face to face. When they hit the door with a mild thud, Beau chuckled lowly into her mouth. The monk had an earthy scent about her, which Yasha gladly accepted and wouldn't mind smelling like when they finished.

Pulling back tested Yasha's will in a way she wasn't expecting.

 

“What do you want tonight?” Yasha scanned Beau's face as she asked, partly as a distraction from her own arousal.

“I want marks, bites, anything you've got.” Beau panted. “Even if you leave soon, I want this to stay with me.” She struggled to maintain eye contact, the admission clearly embarrassing for her.

 

The sincerity brought an unknown feeling to Yasha's chest, but it was very close to sadness. The truth is, she was supposed to be gone before they became part of Avantika's crew. This was borrowed time.

Whatever that feeling was, Yasha was more than happy to give Beau what she’s asking for.

 

“Well. Is there a pattern you're particularly fond of?” Yasha meant to lead her to the bed when she let Beau down, but the monk stepped ahead once Yasha made for that direction. Yasha knelt to retrieve her pack from under the bed, and sorted the ropes inside into different lengths. “I know plenty.”

A smile that said “Of course you do” took over Beau's mouth. “Eh, I'm not picky. I'm sure you'll make it look great.”

Yasha nodded. “And I trust you'll give me a word if you don't like something.”

 

She withdrew a little over 40 feet of silk-blend, cobalt rope along with a pair of similarly-colored shears. It was fairly thick and unlikely to scar Beau, which Yasha figured was to their advantage if the monk moved against it.

 

Beau raised a dark brow at the color choice. “Huh.”

“There's nothing to ‘Huh’ about, Beau. They came as a set.” She should've known Beau would have something to say about it.

“Right. Okay.” Beau chuckled. “A set just for me.”

“Perhaps.” Beau was right, and they both knew it. “Anyway, do you have a word in mind?”

 

Beau's eyes stayed locked on Yasha's hands, the most visible part of her thanks to the outside light. “Hmm. Moonbeam?”

“Moonbeam it is.” Yasha climbed up to join Beau and the mattress creaked under their combined weight.

 

Yasha found she couldn't keep her hands off of Beau. Even when she slipped the monk's blue vestments off, her hands never strayed far from the woman under her.

Beau had the same problem. She pulled Yasha closer every chance she got, her touch leaving paths of heat in its wake. Thus, she couldn't stop the frustrated groan that slipped past her lips when Yasha drew back once more.

The rope was softer than expected, the surprise evident on the monk's face. It slid easily over Beau's waist and torso. Yasha admired the way it framed the monk's skin.

Staying still isn't Beau's strongest suit, so Yasha rewarded her patience with light kisses and dark hickeys. She got no complaints when she lifted Beau to bring a knot around or maneuvered the monk into the light. Beau laughed when Yasha's fingers dragged around her hips. Yasha filed the sound away as one of her favorites.

Beau watched, mesmerized, as Yasha made three knots in the rope along her torso. Yasha leaned in close to wrap the cords over toned shoulders. A moan fell from the monk's mouth as the barbarian ran her hands over Beau's muscled back.

 

“You're being very good.” Yasha whispered in Beau's ear, the heat curling against her face. “That is appreciated.”

“No problem. Just don't wanna fuck this up.” The reply left with a croak.

“Don't worry about that. If I found you undesirable in any way, I'd have told you.” Uncertainty settled in the pit of Yasha's stomach as she wondered if this is too honest, if it should've remained unsaid. A nervous buzz filled her ears, so she felt more than heard the shaky breath Beau took in.

“Yeah. I guess you would've.”

An emotion Yasha couldn't readily identify shaped Beau's face. She didn't have the words, then, to smooth this over. So Yasha ran a thumb over Beau's cheek, and hoped she could communicate the sentiment through touch alone. Beau leaned her face into Yasha's palm, closing her eyes, and seemed grateful for the contact.

Pride bloomed within Yasha as she completed the diamond patterns on Beau's torso. As a test, she ran a finger under the blue cords. There seemed to be enough space for comfort.

 

“Does anything tingle?” Yasha checked. “Feel cold anywhere?”

“Nope.” Beau peered at the decorations. “Holy _shit_ , that's fuckin badass.”

The compliment warmed Yasha's face as she fiddled with the remaining rope. “Would you like me to do your hands as well?”

“I- hm.” Beau’s mouth scrunched in thought. “Only if you undo it later. I'd really like to touch you. Is that...okay?”

 

Yasha nodded, and made quick work of securing Beau's arms behind her back.

 

“You're probably used to being the first to give, aren't you?” Yasha planted kisses in the spaces between the diamonds, pausing for a moment to lave her wide tongue against a firm nipple.

Beau couldn't manage a sentence at the moment and squirmed at the attention. Continuing downward, Yasha nipped at the monk's inner thigh, gripped her ass, and kept her eyes on Beau's. “Aren't you?”

Out came a moan, then the words. “Y-yeah. I am.” Her eyes darted around Yasha's face, curious as to the question's direction.

“Then I'll make sure you receive all you can take tonight.”

 

With great care, the barbarian lifted Beau's torso and settled in behind her. The wooden wall scraped against her back, but it would take more than that to make her give up this position.

Yasha caught her ankles around Beau's, moving their knees apart and baring the monk to the chill air. She let her hands roam, and allowed herself to learn more about her partner. One hand caressed Beau's neck while the other trailed down to circle her nipples. Beau's breathing went shallow, but she sucked in just enough air to groan Yasha's name. The sound made the barbarian throb for a moment.

The monk's head fell back onto Yasha's shoulder, and Yasha smiled at the softness of her undercut.

Slowly, but with purpose, Yasha lowered a hand from Beau's neck, over her abs, and cupped her core. In response, Beau rolled her hips forward, desperation knitting her brows and face scrunched with effort. It's the kind of treatment that makes her swallow her syllables. But Yasha wanted to hear more.

She ran two fingers up Beau's center, surprised how wet she was already. With eventual coordination, Yasha managed to slide a calloused finger in Beau and roll a hardened nipple in time with each other. She attacked the monk's neck with everything she had, biting, kissing, and leaving dark marks in her wake.

This left Beau with too many directions to focus on, as leaning forward would deprive her of Yasha's mouth, and pushing back might displace the hand exploring her body. Yasha could almost see the conflict playing out in Beau's mind and was curious what she’d choose.

Beau’s hands scrabbled desperately against her own elbows, too far away to provide any relief. So she thrust her hips toward the strongest fingers in the room.

The position cramped Yasha's hand, yet she kept the rhythm she'd developed. She felt like she’d gotten her wires crossed with so many sensations surrounding her. Each variation Beau made of her name fueled every movement, spurred her to seek each avenue of pleasure. She'd like to think she has more self-control than this, but now she has her doubts.

Yasha added a second digit before she curled her fingers upward. Beau screamed. Yasha didn't let up. The closer Beau got to her mounting orgasm, the more insistently she bucked her hips.

“ _Fuck, Yasha!_ ”

To help the monk over the edge, Yasha angled her palm flatter against Beau's center, massaging the clit as evenly as possible. Firm thighs trapped her wrist, Beau’s hips worked on their own, and there was no question how tightly they were wound, how tightly this bound them. Yasha knew the tension snapped by the pulses enveloping her fingers. The force with which Beau jolted upright — even with the cords hugging her close — only happens after someone overcomes a limit they didn't even know they had.

As she came down, Yasha murmured compliments against her shoulder blades and examined the rope marks. Nothing deep or worrisome. She slung an arm across Beau’s front, running a thumb over the left shoulder as Beau sagged against her.

 

“How do you feel?” Yasha's oaky tone displaced some of the fog in Beau's mind.

A mess of syllables found their way past Beau's grin, none of them adding up to a single word.

“Right.” Yasha let out a short laugh. “A simpler question, then. Do you want these to go?” She ran an index finger under the diamond framing Beau's navel and let the knuckle glide across the smooth skin.

Beau shrunk back, ticklish. “Not yet.”

“There's something else I'd like to try, if you don't mind.” They'd come this far, but the lingering fear of rejection had never left.

“ _Yes_.” There wasn't a hint of hesitation in the word. “Whatever it is, I'm ready.”

A hearty chuckle rumbled out of Yasha's throat. “I doubt it.”

 

She let Beau down gently as she moved around to kneel between her legs. Yasha lifted Beau up by her hips and dragged her forward.

“Is that ri-” All the air flew back into Beau's lungs as Yasha brought the monk's warm center into her mouth.

 

As the barbarian braced a hand on Beau's sweaty back to support the other woman, she felt Beau's legs lock behind her shoulders. She opened her mouth wide, running her tongue over everything it could reach before narrowing her focus to different sections. As stone-faced as the monk presented herself, she wasted no time letting Yasha know when she approved of something. The insistent way Beau dug her heels into Yasha told the barbarian everything she needed to know.

And Yasha couldn't help but smile as the sounds drifted to her, pleased at the reactions. It'd been a while since she'd been this close to anyone, so any assurance she wasn't too rusty was appreciated.

After all, this was her favorite part of any encounter. She took Beau in from all directions, exploring what made the monk feel best. When Yasha could taste her on the back of her throat, she focused a deep growl of approval on Beau's core. Beau gasped as the barbarian's tongue swirled intently around her clit.

Yasha blinked, eyes glowing white as she drew on a power she swore she'd only bring out if someone proved they could handle it. She took a deep breath and sucked.

A silver light glided from Beau's core, wrapped around her thighs, and filled Yasha's mouth. Yasha swirled the heat around, but she was careful not to consume it. As she pulled her head back, another orgasm rushed through Beau and the monk filled the room with swears in languages Yasha'd never heard before. Beau's toes curled against her back. Yasha paused, holding Beau's soul in her mouth. Then she worked the matter back into Beau by massaging it in with her tongue. Hoarse groans made their way to Yasha's ears, and slick heat wet part of her face.

They breathed as though they'd run miles, further heating the stuffy room.

 

After a few tries, Beau managed a question. “Can I...have my hands back?”

“Of course.” Yasha kissed the spiraling indentations along Beau's wrists as she unwrapped them.

 

The moment she had enough strength, the monk was on her again, long arms wrapped around her neck. “I hope you don't think we're done here.” The sentence carried a wave of ease, a trust Yasha was proud to have earned. “There's a few things I've wanted to do to you since we first met.”

Another smile rose to Yasha's face. “Then show me.”

 

It took a considerable amount of time, but they wore each other out. The heavy smell of sex filled the air, the rope was put away, and the only sounds left were a fight downstairs and Beau's light snoring. The ache of satisfaction settled deep in Yasha's bones, and she didn't want to ever move again.

Lightning struck and crackled along the sky outside, calling the barbarian away. In her sleep, Beau tensed at the thunder shaking the window, and Yasha pulled her closer on instinct. She found suspicious comfort in Beau's presence. She felt this way even though she knew her journey wasn’t over, that her debt wasn’t repaid. The monk was warmer than ever and a reassuring weight on her chest.

Yasha knew they'd both miss this.

She traced an invisible pattern into Beau's shoulder — a warding sigil — lightly enough not to wake her but firm enough to use her remaining allotment of magic. She figured the monk can hold her own, but a bit of divine favor couldn't hurt.

Running another hand down Beau's sleeping form, Yasha was overcome with selfishness. It ran from her heart down to the pit of her stomach. She decided to do something else for once: ask the Stormlord for more time. She shut her eyes and pleaded.

_Just this once._

After a few moments, as if considering her desperation, the rolling thunder stopped, receded. Yasha thanked her patron for his graciousness.

An exhausted, unrestrained grin took hold of her face as she fell into the deepest sleep of her life.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my longest fic yet, so I think I'm getting the hang of this haha. Feedback, comments, and all that's welcome as always.


End file.
